Data Corruption
by PinkSakuraPetals
Summary: Because of a head injury, Sam Witwicky lost his memory of Mission City and of ever meeting the Autobots. Sam, meet Bumblebee...again.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, Hasbro does. Credit for the lyrics used are found at the bottom of the page.

* * *

His car was back.

Sam peeked carefully over his windowsill, cell phone tight in one hand. His Camaro, a concept that hadn't even hit the markets yet, the one the government had given to replace old junker his dad had bought him and had gotten destroyed in Mission City, was sitting innocently in the extra parking spot next to the driveway.

His parents, the government, and, surprisingly, Mickaela Banes all claimed that he had, indeed, been in Mission City when it was destroyed. The government wrote it off as a major gas leak and his parents believed it. Mickaela, on the other hand, said that something bigger happened, but she couldn't tell him without her father being sent back to prison, courtesy of the Feds.

Sam couldn't remember any of it.

He ducked down quickly and opened his phone, fingers clumsy as they dialed the new number on his speed dial. He popped back up as soon as the first ring reached his ear and kept an eye on Satan's Camaro. The line rang a few times and Saw was about to give up and try Miles when Mickaela's sleepy voice sounded in his ear.

"_Hello?"_

Sam crawled awkwardly into his bathroom and shut the door behind him before standing up. "Mickaela, my car is _haunted_!"

The girl on the other end yawned sleepily. _"Sam? It's like…two in the morning. What's going on?"_

"The Devil's taken over my Camaro."

"_What?" _

"I left that Camaro, you know 'the replacement', over at the café. I left it in the parking lot last night and now it's sitting in my driveway."

Mickaela made a weird choking noise and Sam could hear her getting out of bed. _"Are you sure your dad didn't go get it? You know how he is about cars."_

"There are three things wrong with that theory. My dad doesn't know I left it, I got home after he went to sleep, and I have the only set of keys, Mickaela, _the only set of keys._"

"_You probably dreamt that you left your car somewhere else, Sam."_

"No, it wasn't a dream. I know that for certain. I have a huge bruise on my knee from tripping over the stupid curb outside the café. I never go to that café, Mickaela."

"_What do you want me to do? You claim your car is possessed and you think I have any chance against it?" _Something beeped on the other end of the line and Mickaela cursed. _"Look, Sam, I gotta go. Just go back to sleep, okay? Your car isn't the devil."_

"Oh, easy for you to say! You're not the one with Devil!Camaro sitting under his window. I-" Sam froze. He could hear the engine of the Camaro under question revving, almost as if it was trying to get his attention.

"_Sam? What's going on, Sam?" _Sam pulled the phone away from his ear, eyes distant as he strained to hear what was going on outside his bedroom window. The revving stopped, but he could catch the faint sound of an engine idling. Slowly, he closed his phone and pushed the bathroom door open, head peeking out carefully.

His room was same as always; cluttered to the point where it was almost impossible to move from one end to the other, but now one window was flooded with bright light. He set his phone on his desk and crept over to the window, ducking down when he came up to the sill. He peered around one of his curtains, eyes squinting in the light. Down below, his Camaro had its headlights on and focused on his room, something he knew cars couldn't do. _Especially_ on their own. Its engine revved once and a soft honk echoed in his backyard when he poked his head out farther to get a better look. He jerked back inside, heart beating against his ribs like a demented drummer.

Sam stifled a yelp as the car honked at him again, a little louder this time. Without thinking he yanked the curtain back, stuck his head out the window, and hissed down at yellow menace below him. "Cut it out! If you wake my parents, you get to deal with them!" The Camaro dimmed its headlights (how was it doing that?) and inched forward like an eager puppy. Sam stared.

From the beginning he knew there was something wrong with the shiny new Camaro sitting outside his house. Not only because _why_ would the government give him _anything_, but every time he went near it he had the feeling he was being watched. Then the little things started. The doors would unlock and open before he even got the keys out of his pocket (and this car was too new to have worn out parts), the radio would tune itself, and in the few weeks he'd owned it he hadn't had to fill the tank. _Not once._

This was the first time he'd seen the car actively work on its own, though, and it was freaky to see a large yellow Camaro wiggling on the driveway like an overgrown version of Mojo. It flashed its brights rapidly, as if to say '_I know you're there. Come down and play!' _Sam glanced around suspiciously, wondering if he was being pranked by that T.V. show, _Pwned! _

"Alright, very funny guys. You got me, now come on out, seriously. This isn't funny anymore." Sam was careful to say it quietly, but even so his voice echoed across the yard. He waited for the television crews to come out of the bushes and Asher Catchem to pop up from behind his Camaro laughing with Miles and Mickaela. Everything was quiet, only the sound of a dog barking down the street breaking the stillness of the late hour. Sam looked back down at his car and blinked. It had risen up on one side as if on hydraulics and was aiming its headlights at him again. To Sam it looked like a dog cocking its head to the side in confusion. "What, I had to make sure." The Camaro lowered back down and bounced its front end gently like it was laughing. Sam sent it a sour look and pulled back from the window. The car honked in distress and he leaned back out again. "What did I tell you about honking? Look, I'm just coming down there. It'll take, like, thirty seconds, Christ."

Sam shook his head as he left his room, pulling on a sweatshirt as he went. _'Why am I doing this? I'm probably going to get myself killed and my soul's going to get sucked up into that damn car and I'll have to spend the rest of eternity as a ghost-boy. I'm such an idiot.'_ He shoved his feet into his oversized shoes roughly, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling of the tongues being pushed down to his toes and carefully unlocked the back door and snuck outside. The Camaro was even more intimidating up close, especially when the headlights tracked his movements. The engine had cut out at some point and the silence was oppressive. Sam hesitated on the steps for a moment, foot suspended in midair. _'Am I really about to do this?' _The car edged forward a foot, front wheels dangerously close to rolling off the front end of the concrete and resting on his dad's prized lawn. He hurried forward, arms waving.

"Watch the grass, watch the grass! If my dad sees any tires marks he'll ground me for the rest of my life and I'll have to help my mom with her flowers. You know how picky she is with those damn things? I'll be an old, decrepit man before she's satisfied! Back up!" The Camaro complied, inching backward about a foot. Sam stood on the path that bisected the backyard across from the obviously possessed vehicle, a small strip of grass separating them. The Camaro opened its driver's door invitingly, headlights flickering. Sam crossed his arms over his chest. "You really think I'll fall for that? I have parents that taught me not to talk to or take candy from strangers. I highly doubt they'd approve of me getting into a Camaro possessed by Satan." The teen jumped as the radio inside the car came to life in a burst of static. A mess of noises came from it as stations were scanned before settling on one.

"_Trust in me, just trust in me…"_

"The Jungle Book, seriously? Not the best choice. That snake _couldn't _be trusted. Try again, _Christine_."

The Camaro revved again and scanned the stations again. _"Please believe I'm telling the truth…"_

Sam chewed his bottom lip. "The truth, huh? Alright, you got a name then?"

"_Yum yum Bumblebee, Bumblebee Tuna. I Love Bumblebee, Bumblebee Tuna. Yum yum, Bumblebee, Bumblebee Tuna. I love a sandwich made with Bumblebee…"_

"Bumblebee? That's your name?" Sam eyed the paint job of the Camaro and decided it fit. "You know, I'm taking this way better than I think I should. I'm probably in shock right now and any minute I'm going to start laughing hysterically. Then my parents are going to wake up, see their son laughing like a loon and call the local Red Roof Inn. Won't they be proud I took after my great-great Grandpa Archie?"

"_I'm going on the rails of a crazy train…"_

"Yeah, that's what I'm afraid of."

......

Sam gripped the seatbelt across his chest tightly, white knuckled. He decided that if he was going crazy like his double-great Grand pappy, he was going to be spontaneous about it. No quietly-going-crazy for him. As the Camaro crested another steep hill and shot into the air over the other side, Sam wondered if maybe getting into the Devil!Camaro wasn't as spontaneous as it was absolutely _idiotic._

"_Holy Christ_ I'm gonna die!"

"_Jerry was a race car driver and he drove so goddamned fast…" _

The Camaro's shocks absorbed most of the jolt as it hit the road once more and its passenger barely felt a thing. Sam just whimpered and watched the scenery go by at eighty miles an hour.

* * *

Asher Catchem and Pwned! are parodies of Ashton Kutcher and his show Punk'd. There's also a Stephen King reference in there if anyone caught it.

Songs in order of appearance are: (Note: I've never actually listened to most of them, I just used the lyrics.)

_Python's Song _from the Jungle Book Soundtrack

_Leaving Tonight_ by Neyo feat. Jennifer Hudson

_The Bumblebee Tuna Song _by Mephiskapheles

_Crazy Train _by Ozzy Ozbourne

_Jerry Was a Racecar Driver _by Primus (This one made me smile when I found it.)

Yeah…for those of you waiting for updates on my other stories, it'll be a while. Tranformers!bunnies have bitten me and I have to write them first before they'll let my brain go. Lots of bunnies.

Con-crit is welcomed wholeheartedly. I'm _really_ new to the transformers fandom and anything can be helpful. Even _'You suck, n00b. Quit!'_ …sort of.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, Hasbro does. Credit for the lyrics used are found at the bottom of the page.

* * *

_Sam stared at the beat '75 yellow Camaro, nestled between an equally yellow Volkswagen Beetle and an undistinguishable car that looked like it was more rust than vehicle. He ignored Bolivia's spiel about his business and walked over slowly, transfixed. The body was in fair condition considering its age, though the tires were looking a little bare and the engine was probably shot. The twin black racing stripes along the top of the car would've looked cheesy on any other model, but on this car, this classic, they fit. Sam opened the driver's door without a problem and slid into the seat, hands running along unblemished leather. His lungs tightened. _

_This car would be his._

......

Sam groaned as his alarm went off and lazily swung his arm over to smack the snooze button for an extra ten minutes. He snuggled down into his pillow and was just about to fall asleep again when the sound of tiny nails on hardwood echoed into his room. A second later, muffled paws were right next to his bed and Sam waited with baited breath.

_Three, two…_

There was a small grunt and Sam twisted quickly to catch Mojo just as the chihuahua was about to land on the small of his back. Mojo wiggled in his grip eagerly, paws kicking in the air. "Hey there, pill popper. Is it time to get up yet?" He lowered Mojo onto his chest and the tiny dog wasted no time in crawling up to his face to give him a few happy licks on the chin. Sam squawked and covered Mojo's face with a gentle hand. "Mojo quit it!"

The front door creaked open and slammed closed as his father headed off to work. Mojo's head perked up and he let out a tiny bark before leaping off of the teen's bed and scrambling down the hall toward the stairs. Sam's mother let out a surprised yell and he figured the chihuahua had managed to get right in her path again. Sam snickered and yelled down to her. "If you break his foot again, you get to take him to the vet this time!"

"Oh quiet, you! Get ready for school!"

Sam muttered and flicked his alarm off as he pulled himself out of bed and stumbled into his bathroom. After a quick shower and a lame attempt at taming his short mop of curls, the teen grabbed his battered back pack and traipsed down to the kitchen. His mother was already dressed for garden work and smiled at him as she pulled a roast out of the refrigerator. "Sam, be a dear and grab the roaster pan out of the cupboard above the oven. Your father forgot to take it down for me before he left."

Sam set his bag down and moved to help her. "Not like he could get it any better than you. You're almost taller than him." His mom snickered and whapped him on the shoulder.

"You be nice. Get going to school. If I get another call from that principal of yours, your father is going to ground you."

"No he won't. He never does." Sam dodged his mom's second swipe and danced out the front door, bag slung over one shoulder. "See you later, mom! And stop giving Mojo bling!"

Sam whistled lightly as he walked over to his car and stopped dead. _What the hell… _There were huge splashes of mud along the sides of the bright yellow Camaro, thick chunks of it stuck in the wheels and the windshield was streaked with it. Sam's mind raced as he thought up a good explanation for the new look and nearly had a heart attack as the car's radio burst to life and stations were browsed rapidly.

"_When I wash my car, you know it makes me feel so good. I feel so good…"_

The teen scrambled back onto the porch and held his bag in front of him like a shield. "Jesus Christ, I thought that was a dream!" The car jerked forward an inch and popped open the driver's door, radio still playing those same lyrics over and over again. Sam gulped and hesitantly walked over to the Camaro, keys hanging uselessly in his hand. He remembered what happened last night. He and the car (who could apparently operate on its own) had gone out joy riding most of the night, though the car was probably the only one enjoying the excursion.

"Umm, Bumblebee, right?" The Camaro honked gently in agreement and opened the door wider in invitation. "Look, I know you probably want a wash, I know I would, looking like that, but if we take the time to head to the nearest place, I'm going to be late for school. My dad might actually ground me if he gets another call. How about I take you right after classes today?" Bumblebee beeped in response, a sound that was neither negative nor positive and jiggled the door again. Sam sighed and gingerly eased himself into the front seat, uneasy about sitting in an obviously possessed car.

The ride to the high school was relatively quiet. Bumblebee played a few songs that expressed his desire to be clean, but otherwise kept silent, almost as if he could feel Sam's uneasiness. The pair gained quite a bit of attention as they rolled into the school's parking lot. Trent and his group of jocks and cheerleaders pointed and laughed while others stared.

Sam got out of the Camaro and patted the filthy door before making a beeline for the front door. He almost made it to his first class when Mickaela materialized out of nowhere like some sort of crazy-sexy ninja, arms crossed and an 'I'm-annoyed-with-you-but-concerned-as-well' look on her face.

"Hey Sam."

"Uh, hey, um, Mickaela. How are you this fine morning?"

"Oh, I'm just fine, never mind the fact that I got a call before the ass-crack of dawn even appeared. What happened last night?"

Sam's eyes darted back and forth as he tried to think up an excuse for hanging up on her. "Yeah, my phone went dead. I keep forgetting to charge that damned thing. Sorry about that."

"I didn't mean that, Sam. What's up with you and the Devil!Car?"

"Oh, that. Um, well, I realized that leaving my car at the café was a dream and I had just woken up confused. I'm not exactly the most coherent person when I first wake up, no matter what time it is."

Mickaela didn't really look like she bought that excuse, but before she could respond the first warning bell went off and the two teens had to part for their first classes of the day. Sam let out a sigh of relief and headed into the classroom. He high-fived Miles as he took the seat directly behind his friend and leaned forward to poke the other boy in the back.

"Miles, I got something to tell you at lunch today."

The other teen turned around and eyed him. "Am I going to have to be around that EJC?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "We can ditch Mickaela, alright? Just stop calling her that, she's not that bad."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. So what's up with your car, man? I heard a few people in the hall saying it looked like you took it through a ditch."

"That's part of what I have to tell you later."

The final bell for class rang and students filtered into their seats as the teacher walked in. "Alright class, turn to page three forty-five. Today we're talking about standard deviations." The class groaned as one as everyone dug out their text books.

......

"So what's up man?"

Sam wiped his slightly sweaty palms on his jeans, hesitating. "If I tell you, promise not to think I'm nuts?" Miles' eyebrows cocked in confusion.

"No, man. Unless I should. You haven't been doing drugs, have you?"

"No! No drugs." Sam sighed and leaned against the air vent that supplied the school's air conditioning system. Miles and he were favorites of the janitors who looked the other way when the two teens headed up to the roof; either to skip a class or just to hang out during lunch. "My car is haunted."

Miles stared for a few seconds before laughing. "Yeah, right. Seriously man, what's going on?"

"I'm not kidding. I don't remember what happened in Mission City, but for whatever reason the government gave me that replacement Camaro, I wish they'd just take it back. I left it parked outside the café downtown and it _drove itself home_, Miles. It woke me up when it pulled into the driveway. And then, it must have noticed me at the window because it started honking and blaring its headlights at me. It spoke to me through the radio, too. Used lyrics from all sorts of songs." Sam could see that Miles wasn't really buying the story and he could just imagine that his friend was wondering if maybe he _had_ started taking drugs. "_I'm not on drugs_!"

"Alright, alright. So let's say I believe you. Why would a _concept_ Camaro be haunted? It hasn't even been mass produced yet. Therefore, no people dying in horrible crashes and being stuck inside it yet."

Sam hesitated. He wasn't really religious, and Miles was the exact opposite of devout, but he really wondered if maybe the Camaro _was_ possessed, and not just in the casual sense of some other force taking control of it, but…"I think the Devil is inside my car."

Miles gave him a blank look. "The Devil."

"Yes."

"And what business would the Devil have with you that he'd need your Camaro for?"

"I don't know. So far the car's only tried to get me to trust it. It told me its name was Bumblebee."

Miles cocked an eyebrow.

"Seriously!"

"Uh huh. So, the Devil has taken over your Camaro, who's name is Bumblebee, and he's trying to get your trust for some reason." Sam felt his face heat. The whole idea was pretty farfetched.

"Okay, so maybe it isn't possessed by the Devil, but something is definitely going on with my Camaro."

"Maybe it's a secret weapon the government's been designing."

Sam paled, but shook his head. "Then why would they give it to _me_?"

"Something the Japanese cooked up without anyone knowing?"

"That sounds plausible. They're way advanced in robotics." Sam froze. "You don't think it'll turn into a robot, do you?" He shook his head. "No, the Japanese are good, but not that good."

Miles lit up. Sam felt a twinge of dread. An excited Miles was something to worry about. "Maybe it's an alien robot-car! Dude, let's sneak out to the Look Out and try to talk to it! It might have friends!"

Sam watched his friend bounce around on the graveled roof. "I doubt it's an alien robot-car. Why would it be with me?"

"To blend in? People would notice if a giant robot was sitting in your backyard."

"But why _me_?"

"Duh, if he hung around with government workers, he might get caught. Then it's Area 51 for him. You're just some nobody-kid. Come on, let's ditch and go talk to him!" The other teen dashed down the service stairs into the school, leaving Sam behind in a metaphorical cloud of dust.

"Dammit. Why do I have such a geeky friend? Sure, tell the sci-fi nut your car can operate itself. He'll understand. Frick." Sam closed the trap door behind him as he descended back into the school and dodged around his classmates as he headed out to the waiting Miles and his Camaro from Hell.

* * *

Songs in order of appearance are:

_Wash My Car _by Paul Gilbert

Wow, I wasn't planning on having a second chapter out this soon. This plot bunny is a hard biter. Not much Bumblebee action in this chapter, but he'll play a bigger part in the next one.

Again, con-crit is welcomed.


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